Eyes of a God
by Ascarde
Summary: What happens when the eyes of the second most powerful being in the Nasuverse end up in the eyes of an ordinary college student? Most certainly not anything good. One-shot. Self-insert. Rated for mild language. I do not own Kara no Kyokai nor anything mentioned in this fic.


It was a day like any other.

I, for as long as I can recall, wake up very abruptly. I don't even remember my dreams, no matter how hard I try. I simply close my eyes, wait what seems like a few seconds, and open them to find me lying in a completely different position than what I went to bed with sunlight streaming through my open window with my dog lying at my feet. Yup, just another idyllic day in sunny California.

Now, if this was a fantasy novel or something, I'd probably say something cheesy, like "But I have a secret power" or something like that. No, I'm just an ordinary high- no, college student. I took a graduation test two years early and passed, albeit barely on the math but extremely well in language arts. This wasn't a big surprise to me; math was a very poor subject of mine, and I was more than willing to disprove the stereotype Asians are good at math.

Perhaps I'm a little childish on the inside; I dream and daydream and read about having mystical powers. How could I not? Could you imagine how fun and exciting life and society would be like if we could throw around fireballs and shoot lightning out of our fingertips? It'd be way more amusing and chaotic than our boring, methodical ways.

How many times do you recall changing your daily routine? It's probably something like wake up, eat, go to school/work, chill out for a bit, actually get to work, come home, eat dinner, and fall asleep. Add in "browse the internet" and you have my entire life in a nutshell.

A college exam in English 101 is coming tomorrow; Mom will pull me aside in the morning for review of possibly the most infuriating novel in terms of characters. I'm not gonna point any fingers, but the characters depicted just… irritate me on the most personal and irrational level. Mom agrees with me, saying "I've seen better people in psych wards."

Mom's a now retired teacher of nursing. Very nice but has a rather explosive temper if you manage to somehow aggravate her. And that comes worryingly easily; raised voices occur in our household at least twice a month, if we're lucky. She helps out now evaluating college students and approving of their applications. With twenty three years of experience, I can't say I'm really surprised.

Dad's a rather high profile lung doctor, but he's good at practically anything. He's my go to guy for fixing something, like the television, my gaming systems, opening a bottle of Powerade; he's the family ace in the hole. He's a bit forgetful, but as he's nearly infinitely more patient than Mom, I generally end up doing schoolwork with him.

I'm the youngest of a family of four. My oldest brother has moved out, gotten married, and now works for a company that I cannot recall off the top of my head. He's generally regarded by the family extraordinarily well; not that we have particularly high expectations or anything. As long as we're successful, our family doesn't really care what we do.

My sister, the eldest, drifted out of contact and is getting married this week in fact, in New York. I felt elation at the news of my brother, but strangely I didn't feel anything towards the announcement of my sister. This worries me, but is understood by Mom, which worries me even more. According to her, my sister was among the most infuriating individuals my mom has had; the pickiest eater, always got sick, and apparently has not thanked Mom once. I often get compared to her, but thankfully only in terms of pickiness.

My middle brother still lives with us, even though he's nearly pushing twenty four now. It's mostly out of convenience's sake; his job isn't that far away, and we didn't see a point in pushing him out and draining more of our funds. The economy is picking up, but is still rather poor. We just keep him around, but he pulls his own weight; he buys his own food, takes care of his dishes, and keeps his car fueled. It's more like he's a tenant than anything.

Me? Oh, I'm not anything like that. Well, not yet. College, former high school student who decided to skip largely cause I didn't like my peers. Wears glasses that constantly smudge and can't seem to ever keep clean. Currently I'm pushing on sixteen, a weedy little thing whose muscles only work when they feel like it. Not very physically fit; I always was more of a reader than a sports person. Bizarrely, while everyone else got along with others fine, I was always the loner, always with a book and more recently my phone. Even wrote an essay on the phenomenon; called it "A Life of Solitude."

Oh hell no, am I angsting now? No fucking way. I don't angst; I knew exactly what I was doing with my choices. I'm fine with a lonely existence; I'm asocial and asexual. Well, largely. I seem to have developed a disturbing amount of leniency towards two dimensional women, which alarms me because I've seen and read enough anime and manga to know where this is going; I'll end up like one of those stereotypical fat geeks who lives in their mother's basement! Not that we even have a basement, but it's the thought that terrifies me.

Just the thought and image. I couldn't possibly care less about virginity. Nor do I want to look like one of those bodybuilders; muscles like that are just grotesque. I'd prefer a more slender, more lean look like Ulquiorra Schiffer from Bleach. So I developed an idle workout hopefully that'll let me do just that.

As I finally finish the daily amount of pushups and crunches I prescribed myself (two sets of twenty), I thought idly to myself what I would even DO with magical powers. What would I do with the magics of the Nasuverse, like the Fifth? What would I do with the Gae Bolg and absolute mastery over it, or if I developed the Tsubame Gaeshi and False Assassin's swordsmanship?

Yeah, you'd notice a trend here. Unlike other teens, who probably what it'd be like to blow up planets, I prefer small scale. At least large enough to threaten a city, which was probably why Bleach attracted me so. The vision always comes into mind; me, triumphantly holding and making the Lanza Del Relampago, the "Lance of Lightning", and throwing it and laughing at the explosion.

Of course, then the military would be on my ass like flies to honey and I'd possibly be experimented on or turned into a tool of war. I daydream, as I mentioned, a lot. About half my day is spent pacing around the college campus because I'm playing a scenario or something in my mind. Nearly ninety-five percent of those scenarios end with me dying a suitably heroic death.

I was somewhat concerned by this, but isn't this what all adults dream of? Dying an exciting, heroic death with a weapon in hand and a fuck you smile on your face, or are that just my thing? I always had a fascination with death; the peaceful kind, where you gently let go of the thread of life and let darkness engulf your vision. The accepting kind, where you sigh amusedly and resignedly, crack a joke, and fade to black. The raging kind, where you curse God, curse the people who gave this to you, drag as many people with you to hell or heaven or the void, if you are an atheist. All kinds of death; you name it, I was all over it.

Of course, I would always place myself smack dab into the dying person's shoes. This was probably what introduced me to the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, seeing death itself, showing the truth about killing, what it means to do so. It was also pretty awesome to look at, which is always a plus.

Shiki Tohno wore glasses and has an appearance suitably close to mine for me to imagine myself. I could picture it already; me, taking off my glasses and the silvery blue eyes staring in an alley, a small, gleaming knife in my hand. But it was Shiki Ryougi's that REALLY caught my attention.

They were my favorite things to look at; it was just so incredibly pretty with the blue sclera, purple and white circle as it closes towards the center of the eye, and a black hole at the center. Governing the laws of nature, being the avatar of Akasha, the Root of All Knowledge; how awesome would that be? You'd literally have the eyes of God and all the powers that came with it sealed into this frail human body.

Of course, I didn't just imagine having the MEoDP, as it's shortened to. I imagined myself with Aoko Aozaki's powers, simultaneously the hottest and most fashionable Type-Moon protagonist. Blowing things up with a point of the finger? Firing laser beams? Having a magic that can't do naught but destroy and possibly control time?

I imagined myself with Saber's powers; Excalibur and Avalon, a protector of the World, a Counter Guardian. Entrusted with the Last Phantasm, Excaliblasting everyone to death and instant invulnerability. Also very pretty to look at; both the sword and the beam of death ray.

Myself as the famous GARcher, a muttered "Trace On" and I'd have any sword I wanted, as long as I saw it. Myself with the Gates of Babylon, holding Ea and Enkidu as I emerge from flames, my torso alight with red tattoos. Myself with Rin Tohsaka's magic ability, myself with the Second Magic, myself with practically anything from the Nasuverse.

But of course, a simple question would always come and slam me like a bolt from the blue; what would I even DO with these powers? There was nothing to kill; no supernatural events to investigate, like either Shiki.

I couldn't travel freely like Aoko; while my family was certainly well off, calling us prudish would be an understatement. I also didn't think freelancers like Aoko really needed the ability to blow things up or stop time, at least not in this age.

No threats to humanity, as far as I know. Well, except the Sun blowing up, and I don't think Tracing or Avalon would help with that. Perhaps Alaya does exist, and it's helping humanity advance science at this positively phenomenal rate? Who knows?

I could unite the world again, like Gilgamesh, if I had the Gate of Babylon, but its power derives from personal wealth, and I have a measly five dollars and fifty cents. I don't think I'd get even a candy wrapper from there.

No Magic Association exists, not to my knowledge, and I don't even know the full extent of Rin's abilities. Ditto with the Second, although traveling to alternate realities and taking samples of technology from, say, a universe where humanity evolved and became beings of energy and warp reality with a gesture might be interesting to tease society with.

Anshin'in of Medaka Box tempted me for a moment. Surely, with all of her twelve quadrillion abilities, she could do SOMETHING interesting, right? I will never know; since the anime crash as I call it I simply don't want to watch any new anime or read any manga.

I also eyed Angel from Angel Beats!. That Hand Sonic looked pretty nifty, and I'm sure that the Angel Software would permit me to do anything. Favorite anime, I feel obliged to point out.

Of course, in the end, it all came back to Ryougi's ever so tempting Mystic Eyes of Death Perception and her little knife. I want a copy of that knife; something about its design just makes me want to hold it in my hand. With the eyes, I could kill anything with a little line and wipe it out of existence. Hell, I could kill even the concept! Goodbye homework!

Yes, if God exists and decided to give me a wish, I'd without a doubt wish for Shiki Ryougi's powers. And her knife.

I take one last longing look at my wallpaper, Ryougi standing on a skyscraper with obligatory dramatic wind, knife with lens flare, and white and red glass billowing around her. Very stylish and my new favorite image to imagine myself in.

I turn off my lamp and close my eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep, wondering the implications of having godlike power.

* * *

…white light. I rub my eyes and sit up in bed, my fan whirring away as I had gotten into the habit of leaving my fan on because my room becomes a hotspot for temperature in about three seconds if I leave my lamp on. I am greeted by a most unusual sight. No, no mysterious figure or awesome axe or sword or weapon or what have you. Nothing. It was… well… it was like…

…okay, y'know whenever you press your eyeballs and let go of them and you see white spots all over your vision? Those are actually dead cells that are floating across your eye. Since I discovered the Eyes of a God, I'd imagine that they were lines of death, and I'd fake cutting them with a pencil or something. I could get away with this in school, passing it off as a gesture. They're normal to see.

But I was seeing a metric shit ton amount of them! They were freakin' everywhere; on my bed, on my laptop, on my door, on my sofa, on my chair (The Chair I Stubbed My Toe on Countless Times!), my fan, my EVERYTHING. They slowly sharpened to show black lines that seemed drawn on. On That Chair, I saw a package with a note. I inwardly sighed, and thought "Oh come on, this is like something out of some crappy anime. Next thing I know some magical goddess is gonna come and offer to grant me a wish or something."

Then I thought "I've been reading too many damn harem fanfics."

I unfold the note and glare at it, blinking rapidly to try and clear the annoying black lines that were like cracks in reality. I noted, "Writing and reading too much fanfiction. Stop for a bit."

_J,_

_There ya go._

_Father_

…m'kay, and just what the hell did that mean? J was my acronym; my shortened name, because my real one is just too clunky so I call myself Jay or J.

Exactly what did Father give me? Apart from putting all this infuriating black ink squiggles all over my room. How the hell did he find enough time to do this? This was enough ink to fill an entire ink bottle!

And why was he calling himself Father? He never addressed me in such a formal manner, nor did he even write me a letter. He just sends me an email getting straight to the point with no signature, no greeting, no nothing.

I rubbed my eyes, irritated. It was starting to itch like it frequently did. Great, now my allergies were acting up. I stomped over to my bathroom, wrenching my door nearly off its hinges.

Okay, that was pretty damn startling. As the noise settled, three things came to the forefront of my mind. One, I could literally hear the crack of wood and metal as it was forcefully separated. Two, either my adrenal glands suddenly decided to dump their entire accumulated load of sixteen years, I don't even care if that's possible, into my bloodstream and I could now flip a car if I wanted to. Three, the black lines persisted even into the bathroom. One over the mirror, five on the sink and faucets, some on my wall (a back check confirmed yes, even in my room there were lines on the walls there too), and some on my floor and oddly enough the towel.

I decided to dismiss all but the first one. It was entirely possible; my hormones often decide to activate whenever the hell they feel like and sudden erection in class that I have to fight back. If this was a prank, they really went all out in terms of coverage. I turned to the mirror to take a look at what was irritating my eye.

And I nearly fell into the bathtub when eyes of cerulean and lavender stared back.

I got shakily to my feet. There's no way in hell I'd not recognize the eyes I stare into for minutes on end. These were without a doubt, Shiki Ryougi's Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. I felt elation; holy shit, I actually had my wish granted! Now I can do anything I want! I turned and practically ran to the package, all five steps it took me felt too long. Yup, sitting side the velvet black box was a carbon copy of Shiki's knife, exactly how I envisioned it. I seized it and triumphantly waved it in the air.

I ended up accidently slicing my lamp in half, before it popped out of existence.

…

…y'know, self-inserts in fanfictions I've read that are like this never have this problem. And I can see why. When you possess power like this, either enough to replace a city like, say, New York with a smoking crater or wiping things out of existence, no one wants to hear about your failures. Not that I wasn't saying most self-inserts are crap, I thought dully as I stared at the spot my lamp occupied.

Fortunately my mom was out, my brother and dad were already at work, so I had the house to myself for a bit. Why couldn't this happen on Thursday? Everyone except me would be leaving for my sister's wedding!

Aww shit, and that was my favorite lamp!

I slumped to the floor in despair.

* * *

A/N: And now for something completely different.

Something I wrote to try and write longer chapters and how it feels. I think I have a good formula to cover at least an entire day and the morning after for a good, reasonable amount of words.

J, as you may guess, is me. I will venture forth into the world, armed with the powers of Shiki Ryougi, the Root, and my own ignorance on how to use the eyes and the Root's power, and take on the most challenging adversary of all adults.

College.

Written in character and an attempt at deconstructing self-inserts. Let's see how I fared.

Thanks for reading the little piece of mind I spawned.

Til we meet again.

~J


End file.
